Blank Slates
by GodSendConspirator
Summary: AU 6th Year. Draco Malfoy has betrayed the Dark Lord, and in doing so was completely Obliviated. Snape is sent on a mission of retrieval to find him, and ends up with the most infuriating company he could fathom tagging along to help. Eventual HPDM slash.
1. Of Favors and Debts

**Chapter One: Of Favors and Debts**

It was a brisk, chilling October night, with scathing cold winds that penetrated one's very bones, and only a sliver of moonlight as guidance for those brave enough to face the elements. Severus Snape had no intention of leaving his quarters, and was fairly certain he could hear the wind howling against the stone walls of Hogwarts even in the dungeons. It was a night for peace and solitude, a night to take a break from grading countless incompetent essays written by equally incompetent students. He strode to his personal locked cabinet of potions ingredients for a small bottle of centaur hairs; he would need them for his brewing later that night.

Abruptly, the fireplace at the far side of his quarters flared a bright green, which started Snape so thoroughly that he almost dropped the small phial.

"Severus, you are needed," said the floating head of Lucius Malfoy. His voice, normally with little inflection or clues to his mood, was now strained and almost hoarse. This startled Snape even more than the unannounced firecall had, and he quickly grabbed his cloak hanging from the mantle.

"Lucius, I imagine this holds high enough importance to permit disturbing me at this hour," he murmured, though Snape already had known that nothing less than a true emergency would cause the elder Malfoy to contact him through his personal fireplace.

"Of course, Severus. I will await you in the entrance hall." Lucius's head swiftly vanished from the grate, and the fire resumed glowing a muted orange.

Snape quickly grabbed some floo powder from a silver container above the fireplace, threw it into the flames, and yelled, "Malfoy Manor!" He never had liked traveling this way, and preferred to avoid it at all costs. It was the most undignified travel, and even the most graceful people ended up at their destination looking ruffled and unbalanced. Snape stepped into a large, very ornate room, just barely catching himself from tripping on the hem of his cloak. He scanned the room with a small hint of embarrassment coloring his face, and was grateful to find that Lucius had already left for the entrance hall. He shook the dust from his robes and made his way to the hall, a hard mass of unease uncurling in his stomach with every step.

He found Lucius sitting in a high backed chair, his hair unkempt as it fell past his shoulders and his face turned away from Severus. The mass of unease Snape had felt evolved into a more tangible notion of dread that rocked its way from his stomach to the tips of his fingers. In all his days knowing Lucius and begrudgingly working beside him, he had never seen the man look like this. He seemed defeated, small, and hopeless. Snape did not want to imagine what news had sent the cold, prideful, seemingly soulless Death Eater before him into a cowering mess of a man who seemed to be a few seconds away from shattering.

"Lucius," Snape hissed, his voice a little more than a whisper. "What has happened?"

Lucius waved a hand as if to dismiss the question. Snape stood silent for almost a minute, waiting with what little patience he could muster for a response. The blond man shook his head slowly and turned to Severus with hollow eyes. "My son, Severus. Our Lord has taken my son."

Snape took in a sharp breath, disbelief flashing across his face. "Impossible," he breathed. "I saw him in the Great Hall not a few hours ago."

Lucius shook his head again, a smile that had nothing to do with mirth tugging at his lips. "Polyjuice, Severus," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know our Lord requires the hair and blood of all of his followers."

Snape took a step forward, his temper rising. "Yes," he hissed, "but the boy is not Marked!"

Lucius turned his head away again as the strange smile fell from his face. "He is. This past summer. The Dark Lord left little room for negotiation."

A look of distaste swept across Snape's features before he could stop himself. He clamped down hard on his emotions and his voice was ice as he spoke. "And what have they done with my godson, Lucius?" His hands were clenched at his side, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

"He... fought against his new title. I always had known that he was loathe to take the Mark, and Narcissa had felt the same," Lucius said, his voice low and tight. Snape felt his anger threatening to unleash itself again.

"_Lucius_," Snape snapped. "What have they done with my godson?" His words cracked like a whip, but Lucius seemed unphased as he continued.

"I should have removed him when I had the chance. Narcissa was more than happy to relocate him to Durmstrang, but I was too blind to anticipate this outcome. He faltered like I should have known he would, and our Lord deemed him useless." Lucius's eyes adopted that hollow look from before, and Snape felt a stab of fear hit him in the chest.

"You can't mean to tell me that he is-"

"No, Severus, he is not dead. The Dark Lord knows he would lose my allegiance to him if that happened, and with it he would lose my influence and monetary support." Lucius paused, as if he was unsure how to continue. "They've taken his mind, Severus," his voice no more than a rasp. "He knows nothing of who he is. All of his memories, everything that makes him my son, _gone._" Lucius bowed his head, unable to shield the pained look on his face. "They have released him somewhere remote. I do not know the location."

Snape swore under his breath, his mind spinning. Lucius had told him _nothing _of Draco's initiation, and the boy himself had avoided Snape since the beginning of the year. Rage coursed through him, and he wanted to shake the elder Malfoy for being so asinine. Instead, he turned swiftly on his heel towards the fireplace in the other room, his cloak billowing behind him. He felt no need to issue a farewell to Lucius, and he almost did not hear the Death Eater as he spoke.

"Find my son, Severus. Find him, and take him far away from here."

Clenching his teeth, Severus flooed back to his quarters, his mind pulsing with rage and a grim determination to find one of the handful of people he cared about in this world.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter sat staring at the unappetizing lump of food on his plate, small parts of conversation drifting in and out of his awareness. The start of the school year had passed with little fanfare, and today seemed to be no exception.<p>

"...Malfoy getting a break like that!" Ron had raised his voice, and Harry had only caught the last bit of his sentence. He looked up from his dinner to give his friend a questioning look.

"Which Malfoy?" Harry asked, even though he had a strong idea of who Ron meant.

"The ferret's father! He _attacked _us, Harry, he could have _killed _us! How is it that he even got a lawyer to represent him?" he spat, and small flecks of whatever he was chewing went airborne over the Gryffindor table.

Hermione's head shot up at that, and she looked torn between giving Ron a literal answer to his question and scolding him for chewing with his mouth open. Harry quickly spoke before she could decide, effectively stopping the lecture before it started.

"Yes," Harry said, shaking his head and eying the speck of food next to his plate with disdain. "It's more than unfair. But really, Ron, when have we ever expected fair when it was concerning Malfoy?" Harry let Ron continue ranting over pureblood influences and stole a glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting stone still, not eating, but observing everyone around him. Pansy had crossed her arms and was glaring at him, but Malfoy never seemed to notice. Harry narrowed his eyes. Something was... off.

_What's he planning now? It has to be something big, he's not even acknowledging Parkinson. I wonder if he-_

A shrill voice interrupted his thoughts. "Ronald! When you decide to grow up, I'll be waiting for an apology!" A very furious Hermione stormed past him while Ron sat silent in anger, turning multiple shades of red and pink every few seconds.

"What happened this time?" Harry gave Ron a look of sympathy as the redhead tried to think of the right response.

In the end, Ron just ended up muttering, "It's _Hermione_," and went back to eating his dinner with much less vigor. Harry sighed, it was always a long night when they were fighting. He turned to look at the Slytherin table once again, only to find Malfoy rise quite suddenly from his seat and walk out of the Great Hall. Harry could feel his brow furrow, and he had a moment's thought to follow the other boy.

His better judgment told him to stay seated, even though his curiosity was getting the better of him. He ended up siding with his common sense and followed Ron back to the Gryffindor Tower. Malfoy's strange behavior circled his thoughts the entire way.

Ron muttered the password to the Fat Lady and they both climbed inside. Hermione had taken up residence in one of the armchairs scattered throughout the common room, and upon noticing their entrance, gave the redhead a glare that could have scared much braver men than Ron away.

Harry swallowed, keeping the portrait open. "I think I'll let you deal with this one."

Ron's face turned an interesting shade of gray, and he nodded at Harry as he ducked back out of the portrait hole.

_Well, I guess I could use a nice walk and some time to think. _He let his feet guide the way through the castle, not really bothering to choose a destination. He was too preoccupied with what he saw at dinner, and almost missed the quiet steps of someone briskly walking the halls. Feeling curious again, Harry decided to follow close behind to find out who was in such a hurry.

To his surprise, he nearly ran straight into Professor Snape, who had spun around and eyed him with barely contained anger.

"Out roaming the halls, are we, Potter?" Harry flinched despite himself, and Snape's lip curled. "I have no time to deal with you. I suggest you return to your House." He turned quickly and his robes snapped behind him as he rounded another corner.

Harry's curiosity peaked yet again that night, and he desperately wanted to find out what had Professor Snape looking so flustered. He debated with himself for a few seconds, then promptly threw any notion of common sense out the window. He was going to follow Snape, and he was going to find out what was going on.

_At least it will be interesting, even if it does get me murdered by Snape._

* * *

><p>Harry quickly pressed himself against the stone corridor, fearing Snape had turned around and spotted him. When he finally dared look out, he found to his relief that Snape was no longer even in the same hallway. He let out a soft <em>whoosh <em>of breath and continued following behind the professor, keeping mind to walk as carefully as he could.

He rounded yet another corner, getting tired and wary of all the turns Snape was taking. Harry frowned as he found himself in an empty corridor, barely lit by candlelight and seeming to have at least three different exits out of it. He strained to listen for footsteps heading down one of the possible paths, but the only noises he could hear were his own heart beating in his ears and a steady gnawing sound, as if a rat was making its way in through the wall. Harry had decided to admit defeat and turn around when he felt a sharp grip on his shoulder and was thrown into the wall before he could utter protest.

Snape had his wand to his throat, and even through the dim light Harry could make out the hatred in his eyes. "You dare," the professor breathed, inches from his face, "attempt to follow a Death Eater?" He paused to press his wand a little harder into Harry's skin, causing the boy to grimace. "You _impudent _child, what did you imagine the outcome of this situation would be?" Harry froze, unable to find his voice to answer Snape's question.

Snape opened his mouth for a scathing remark when he heard footsteps coming from one of the pathways at the end of the corridor. He swore under his breath and pushed Harry rather violently in the small alcove a few feet away. "_Silencio_," he intoned, voice barely above a whisper. Harry glared daggers into Snape's back as the spell hit him, only choosing to remain still to find out who the professor wanted to hide him from.

Harry sucked in a small breath of air when he saw a very blond head emerge from the darkness of the westernmost hallway. He seemed not to notice Snape, who was pressed up against the wall not ten feet in front of him. Malfoy continued walking past Snape, gaze trained straight ahead, when the professor snapped, "_Stupefy_!" and the boy fell directly in front of Harry, his glassy eyes seeming to be pointed directly at Harry.

Harry felt a course of shock run through his body, and true fear crept its way into his mind. If Snape was willing to stun his favorite student, he didn't want to imagine what he would do to him. Harry made an attempt to run, but a hand snatched the back of his robes and he was thrown against the wall again.

"Always need to be the center of events, don't we, Potter?" Venom laced his words, and Harry stopped breathing. "You will follow behind me. You will make no sounds. You will make no attempt to run. Do you understand me, Mr. Potter?" His voice was icy and clipped, and Harry took a few seconds to unfreeze his muscles and nod at the professor. "I will remove the charm after we have reached the Headmaster's office," he added as an afterthought before he turned to levitate and cast a disillusionment charm on Malfoy's body.

Harry felt his mouth dry out and realized he probably couldn't have spoken even if Snape hadn't charmed him. He hurried out of the alcove towards the professor, who was already several feet ahead of him and keeping a very brisk pace. His thoughts whirled around in his head and a dull throbbing had started in his temples. Harry spent the entire walk trying to decide which question he wanted to ask first, but they all seemed to elude him as they finally reached the stone gargoyle. "Pecan pinwheels," Snape muttered, and Harry would have found it rather amusing if the man before him hadn't just stunned one of his students. The Potions Master turned to glare at him as if he could hear his thoughts, and Harry froze still, expecting a hex when the older man raised his wand. Instead, Snape removed the silencing charm with more than a little contempt in his voice.

Harry stayed silent all the way up the curving stairway to Dumbledore's office, relief washing over him when he was finally sure that Snape wasn't going to curse him and hand him over to Voldemort. He stayed quite a few feet behind the professor, making sure not to run into the floating body of Draco Malfoy. He heard Snape knock, and a deep voice responded, "Come in, Severus."

Harry walked in the office after Snape, and was shocked to find that Dumbledore just nodded gravely when Snape removed the disillusionment charm from Malfoy. The Headmaster turned his gaze to Harry, his eyes hard and a few shades dimmer than he remembered. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter, I am sure we have much to discuss. Severus, about how long would you say the potion will remain in effect?"

Snape sneered at the body placed unceremoniously in the middle of the office floor and said, "An hour. No longer than two."

Harry could feel his eyebrows rising, tens of questions poised on the tip of his tongue. He remained silent, however, when he saw Dumbledore bow his head, his face seemingly much older than Harry was used to.

Dumbledore's voice was quiet as he asked, "Do you hold any insight as to who this might be, Severus?"

Harry couldn't keep his silence any longer. "Who it might be?" His voice came out raspy and hoarse, and it sounded more like a croak than a question.

Dumbledore shook his head, eyes trained somewhere off in the distance, his voice soft when he replied. "This is not Draco Malfoy, my dear boy. My wards have faltered, and we should feel lucky that only a single Polyjuiced Death Eater made it into the castle, and not Voldemort himself."

Harry swallowed hard, and looked to Snape, who was pacing along the wall. "Albus, Lucius has informed me that Voldemort has obliviated the boy. Completely. He has been turned loose somewhere in the wilderness, or so Lucius believes," he said tonelessly, not letting any emotion color his voice.

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "I see. Severus, I would imagine that I will need to find a temporary replacement for your position?"

Snape nodded and he turned to gaze out of the window, refusing to say anymore. Dumbledore turned to Harry, his voice and gaze a few notches softer. "Harry, I am asking that you keep silent about this. I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will doubtless have questions, but I beg you to tell them nothing of what you have witnessed tonight. I trust that you can return to Gryffindor Tower before curfew."

Harry nodded, barely believing that this was actually happening. Malfoy, obliviated? It was too much to think of with everything he had been through that night, and he stood up and left without asking any more questions.

Shock and confusion settled heavily in his mind, not allowing passage of his normal thoughts as he made his way back to his common room. When he climbed through the portrait, he saw Ron sitting by himself by the fire, frowning at nothing and seemingly lost in thought.

"Hi, Ron," Harry said, his voice still hoarse. "Have you and Hermione stopped fighting, then?" He smiled, but Harry knew the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes.

Ron shook his head. He looked miserable. "She's gone off to bed. At least she's not yelling anymore. Almost gave one of the First Years a heart attack."

Harry chuckled despite himself and made his way to the stairs leading towards his dormitory. "Don't beat yourself up too bad, yeah?"

Ron mumbled something unintelligible that Harry took as a goodbye. He wished that he could sit down and tell Ron everything that had happened, but out of respect for the Headmaster, he chose to stay silent. It was harder than he thought, and he was gnawing at his lip before he could even reach his four poster bed.

His mind was hard to quiet that night, and when he finally drifted to sleep, dreams of blank grey eyes plagued his dreams.


	2. A Merry Holiday to You Too, Headmaster

**A/N: Thank you to everyone that favorited/alerted this story, and thank you to piglettfor your review!  
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**Chapter Two: A Merry Holiday to You Too, Headmaster**

Hermione gave Harry a stern look. He knew she was too smart not to notice that something was bothering him, even if Ron had been completely oblivious.

"Harry, I-" she started, and Harry threw up a hand to stop her in midsentence. Her lips formed a thin line and he could see her jaw clench.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but there's nothing to tell," Harry said as they entered the library. "I'm perfectly fine. Just stressed out about our assignment for Defense." That wasn't a complete lie; ever since Snape had left to search for Malfoy the class had been in shambles. Dumbledore had hired a creaky older witch ironically named Professor Young, and she had assigned homework in every class for the last four weeks.

Hermione adopted a softer expression. "Yes, I agree, she's been a bit overreaching," she admitted, and Harry's jaw dropped.

"You mean that you don't like the extra work?" he asked, unable to keep the amazement out of his eyes.

Hermione scrunched up her nose and sat down at a table in the corner of the library. "It's not that I don't _like _the extra work, but it's difficult to study ahead when I'm working on her assignments every night. It's left me almost no extra time for N.E.W.T. work, and the exam is only next year." She worried her lip and reached fervently for her books. "Which reminds me, I've _got _to catch up on N.E.W.T. level Charms." She plopped a massive brown book down onto the table and flipped it open, her right hand already taking down notes.

Already tired just watching Hermione, Harry sat back against his chair and stared at a pair of younger students attempting to levitate a book out of the Restricted Section. A loud, wailing alarm sounded, causing the students to bolt out of the library with Madam Pince screeching after them. Harry stifled a laugh and tried to focus on his homework.

His mind drifted to his favorite subject these days, which was what the hell was going on with Malfoy. He drummed his fingers on the side of the table as he pondered Snape's whereabouts. The professor had left without a word the morning after finding the Death Eater posing as Malfoy, and little explanation was given as to where he'd gone. Dumbledore had simply said that Professor Snape had private matters to attend to, which satisfied the majority of the students; they disliked him and didn't particularly care why he was gone. Hermione had hypothesized about the situation for a few days, especially when everyone realized that Malfoy was gone, but she seemed to run out of fuel after the first week. Harry was grateful, he didn't need more reason to think about Malfoy's situation since his own questions about him had kept him awake since that night.

Rumors had flown around the school about Malfoy, ranging from garden variety Death Eater stories to -and it still made Harry's stomach turn thinking about it - Malfoy running off with Snape to have some sordid love affair. Harry bit back a gag; that was absolutely the last thing he wanted on his mind.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Hermione nudging him and motioning to the library entrance. Professor McGonagall had walked in and was making her way over to their table.

"Mr. Potter, I have come to inform you that the Headmaster wishes to speak with you," she said, her tone brisk and no nonsense.

"Right now, Professor?" Harry started to gather his unfinished homework, and Professor McGonagall gave him a curt nod.

"Yes. The password is _pumpkin pasties_." She turned and left almost as quickly as she came, leaving Harry frowning in her wake while Hermione gave him a questioning look.

"What do you think Professor Dumbledore wants, Harry? Do you think," she lowered her voice, "do you think this is about the Order?"

Harry shook his head. "I have no idea, Hermione, but I'll tell you about it when I get back."

"Okay, Harry. You had better." She returned to reading the massive Charms book and Harry slipped quietly out of the library. He absently wondered along the way if Dumbledore would give him any information about Snape and Malfoy. He reached the gargoyle faster than he expected, and muttered the password. He knocked on the large wooden door and pushed it open, revealing a smiling Headmaster, much different than the last time he had been in his office.

"Ah, Harry, good of you to come. Lemon drop?" He ushered a glass bowl towards him, and Harry politely refused. "Well, I'm sure you're quite curious as to why I've summoned you here."

Harry nodded, eager to hear what Dumbledore had to say. "Yes, sir."

"Of course. I am wondering, Harry, what have you planned over the holiday break?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he spoke, and he popped a candy into his mouth.

Harry frowned slightly. "I suppose I haven't really thought about it, sir. Ron usually invites me to The Burrow, but we haven't really talked about it yet."

Dumbledore merely smiled and nodded his head as if that was what he expected. "I have a proposal to make, my dear boy." His voice took on a serious edge as he leaned forward towards Harry, his blue eyes glinting with something Harry couldn't put words to. "You were not aware, but I was planning to escort you to a place I believe holds an item of great importance- an item belonging to Voldemort."

Harry frowned a little more, only mildly surprised. "You were going to go with me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded and brought his left hand into view for the first time since Harry had been back at school, and Harry gasped.

"Sir, your hand... It looks as if it's been severely burnt," he said in a near whisper, feeling ill at the sight of it.

"It is a curse, from a similar artifact found elsewhere. I have so far been able to contain it to just this hand, but it will not stay contained forever." He waved his good hand, cutting off whatever sympathies Harry was going to offer him. "It's no matter, Harry. The important thing is that these artifacts are found and destroyed as soon as possible, and I am no longer in the shape necessary to be of much help."

Harry shook his head. "Sir, you can't mean to send me alone to this place." That had Dumbledore smiling again, leaving Harry quite confused. He was unsure what had amused the Headmaster so much, and unease swept over him.

"Of course not, Harry. I never said you would be going alone. It so happens that there is someone more than qualified to assist you journeying in the near vicinity of where you will need to go. He has his own, separate duties, of course, but I am sure you will come to a working understanding."

"But sir, is this someone in the Order? Someone who would understand the mission well enough to be useful?" Harry was beyond curious now, and beginning to become wary of who his guide would be.

Dumbledore actually chuckled at his response, deep laugh lines framing his eyes. "Why yes, as a matter of fact, he's one of the most valued members of the Order." Harry froze, and a chill rolled across his skin as he came to an understanding.

"I'm sure Professor Snape will be pleased to have some company," Dumbledore said cheerfully, and popped another sweet into his mouth.

* * *

><p>Harry stared at the ceiling above his four poster, and said for what felt the thousandth time just this morning, "Why me?" He kicked off his covers with more than a little irritation, startling Ron who was getting ready to go eat breakfast.<p>

"Hey, mate, something the matter?" the redhead asked cautiously as he put on his jumper. "It's about the holidays again, isn't it?"

Harry didn't bother to dignify that with a response, and he scowled at his trainers as if they were the cause to all his problems. Ron shot him a look of pity and shrugged his shoulders as if saying, _well what do you want _me _to do about it_?

"You can always owl me at The Burrow, you know," he said hopefully, giving Harry a wary look again.

"Ron," he snapped, "why in Merlin's name would I bring along an owl to a trip to a cave _in the middle of the bleeding ocean_?" Harry had already lost his temper and he hadn't even had breakfast yet. He had a flicker of dark amusement when he thought about breaking his own record of earliest outbursts.

Ron paled considerably and took off towards the stairs. "Just trying to help, mate," he said quietly on his way out.

He left Harry with a small pang of regret, and the other boy sighed and admitted to himself that he would need to apologize to Ron the next time he saw him.

He didn't feel much like eating that morning; it was the day that he was to arrive at Dumbledore's office promptly at noon to use the floo to meet Snape. He ground his teeth and threw a glare at his trunk, packed with necessary clothes and some extra supplies that he would need for the trip. Dumbledore had assured him that it should take no more than a week, and he might even be able to get back to The Burrow for Christmas. He clung to that hope like a life raft. He had no idea how he was supposed to spend more than an hour alone with the belligerent professor, let alone an entire week.

The time seemed to go slower and faster all at once as Harry spent the morning in his dormitory waiting rather impatiently for noon. Harry thought that prisoners lining up for executions were the only people that could empathize. It was a quarter to noon now, and his stomach clenched. He bit back nausea, feeling as if he'd swallowed spoiled milk.

_I suppose I had just better get this over with._

Harry entered the Headmaster's office as slowly as he could, taking slow, cautious steps as if the floor was about to collapse underneath his weight.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he called out rather meekly, flushing because of it. Dumbledore was standing facing a large wooden shelf against the wall, his back turned to the younger boy.

"Harry, my boy," he said lightly, not turning around. "I trust that your preparations have gone smoothly?" He spun around to face Harry, a small silver chain clasped in his good hand.

"Yes, sir," he muttered, trying to let nothing more than politeness color his voice. Dumbledore gave him a cheery smile and gestured to the chain.

"You will need this in your travels. Wear it around your neck at all times, _never_ take it off. This is vital, Harry. It may end up being your only means of escape should you find yourself in trouble." His voice was hard, and Harry nodded to let the Headmaster know that he understood. "The chain is a Portkey directly to this office. Should any harm find you, simply touch your hand to the silver and speak the phrase _libertatem corpus_."

Harry recited the words in his minds a few times. "Alright, Professor, I'll remember," he said with much more confidence than he felt. Albus smiled again as he slipped the chain around Harry's neck, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"I am trusting you with something of vital importance, my boy. See that old resentments don't cloud your judgment." The Headmaster's blue eyes were stern, and Harry wanted nothing more than to reassure him. However, he felt he couldn't quite muster up the right words, and instead gave a silent nod.

He followed Dumbledore to the fireplace, shrinking his trunk and pocketing it along the way. Nerves were causing his legs to feel no more solid than a block of jelly, and he had a fleeting thought to just run back out the door while there was still time. No one would really blame him, would they?

_Yes, of course they would_, he thought. _Defeating a Dark Lord is hardly less important than a childish grudge._

He steeled his limbs and set his jaw, trying to give Dumbledore a look that told him he had nothing to worry about. He feared that he had managed to do nothing more than adopt a slightly pained expression. Dumbledore was polite enough not to show that he had noticed his nerves, and gave him a solemn, small bow before throwing floo powder into the grate.

"Good luck, Harry. I hope to see you return shortly," he said before calling out Harry's destination. "_Spinner's End_!"

Harry stepped into the roaring green flame, and felt his optimism spin away as fast as his body was spinning through the floo.

* * *

><p>Harry stumbled unceremoniously out of the fireplace into a bare, dimly lit room that he guessed was some kind of kitchen-storage hybrid. Everything smelled damp, and dust lined large, old wooden shelves. They held bottles and bottles of plants, liquids, odd solid objects, all randomly thrown together along food items. He looked around the room with confusion; there were no sounds coming from anywhere in the house, and it appeared quite empty. Where was Snape?<p>

As if on cue, Snape whirled out from a door Harry hadn't noticed in the corner of the kitchen. Snape looked about as pleased as he felt about being there, and Harry set his jaw, prepared for remarks that would likely irritate him beyond words.

"Mr. Potter," he said tightly, his voice just this side of strained. "I am going to give you a list of rules you must abide by. I will repeat them once, and only once. If you fail to adhere to them, I will have you Portkeyed back to Hogwarts before you can blink, and your one and only actual mission for the Order will be considered a failure." He flashed his teeth at Harry in a dark parody of a smile, as if to say that was thoroughly expected, and he was looking quite forward to it. "There are four rooms total that you are allowed in. The first is the room you are in currently, the kitchen. You may not touch anything on the shelves. If you have need for something, you will ask me. If I am unavailable, you will wait until I am not. You may pass through the sitting room, but you will touch nothing, and that includes the books on the shelves."

Harry grimaced. He could already feel a headache coming on.

"The second is the room you will be... residing in." He said the last words as if they had spilled sour milk into his throat. "The restroom is connected through a door on the far side of this room. I have prepared a cot and bedding. These will be washed and folded neatly every time you leave this room, or I will take them and burn them, and you shall not receive a replacement set," he said with a certain flourish, and Harry had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Snape would hold true to his word. "My quarters are across the hall from yours, but that is useless information, since you will not disturb me in my quarters at any time, for any reason." He finally finished and took a few strides towards Harry, his eyes dark and menacing. "Do not cross me, Potter," he said in a low, deep voice that reminded Harry of some kind of jungle animal. "One can't help but pick up certain skills as a spy for a Dark Lord."

Harry met his gaze with difficultly, finding himself just wanting to go rest somewhere. Snape gave him a last sneer before going to the door he had just exited from when Harry arrived.

"I've told you where your room is, Potter. Don't just stand there like an imbecile," the professor snapped, and Harry gave him an odd look.

"Sir," he managed through clenched teeth, "aren't we visiting the cave today?"

"There is currently a storm preventing our entrance. Unless you would prefer to drown?" Snape said, his voice taking on a sarcastic sort of hopefulness.

"No, sir," the younger boy said as he clenched his fist to his side.

"Then I suggest you find something to occupy your time." He opened the small wooden door and slammed it shut with a bang.

Harry was left in the damp, musty kitchen, idly wondering what poor choices he had made to have this sort of fate thrust on him. He supposed that maybe, if he made it back to Hogwarts in one piece, he would make a strong effort to be kinder to everyone, hoping karma would have mercy on him.

Harry had unpacked one of the books he had brought with him and sat on the cot - which was really more akin to a few large sacks of potatoes - and was reading, when Snape slammed open his door. Looking fairly amused by the start Harry gave, the professor chose to stay silent for a moment and soak up Harry's embarrassment.

Finally, after a fair amount of flushing, Harry asked in a flat tone, "Sir? Was there something you needed?"

"I am leaving. I have placed wards around everything except for the areas I have permitted you to venture, and will know the second you have breached them. You will also be rewarded with a nasty surprise."

Harry sighed and said nothing. He feared Snape was becoming far too pleased with this new arrangement.

"Are you going to look for Malfoy, then?" he asked, still very curious about the boy's whereabouts. Snape paled a shade, and snapped at him.

"That is none of your concern, Potter. Keep your fame ridden nose out of matters that it has no place venturing," Snape said sharply, his voice laced with venom that almost made Harry flinch. He turned in a quick motion, his black cloak creating a soft _snap_ as he left Harry's room.

Harry set his book down on the bare wooden nightstand next to the cot, grimacing at the bare room. It had bare brick walls that lowered the temperature in the room by at least ten degrees, no decorations, no windows, and no furniture spare the bare table and the cot with one faded, scratchy wool blanket that gave Harry an itch that rivaled the miserable week when he had caught Dudley's chicken pox.

He decided it was no use just sitting there, and went to look around where he could. He walked out into the sitting room and looked at shelves packed full of a variety of books. Hermione would have fainted, and he frowned as he thought of her. She had been fairly put off when Harry had told her about the trip, claiming that she was of use too, and there was no reason for her to be left behind. He didn't want her harmed, and had done everything he could to dissuade her from trying to go with him. That had ended in a heated argument the night before, and he had regretted not saying goodbye to her this morning. Ron had been much less willing to volunteer himself to go, saying simply, "I'd rather spend my Christmas sitting naked in the Forbidden Forest."

_At least Ron has some common sense,_ he thought dryly.

He was able to waste a good hour squinting in the dim candlelight of the sitting room reading book titles without getting too close to the shelves. The dust finally started to irritate his nose, and he left the room before he could sneeze on anything. He had decided he might as well try to figure out what the hell was in the jars in the kitchen when the front door abruptly slammed open, and Snape barreled through as if his coat was on fire.

"Potter, retrieve the linen from your cot and bring it out here, _now_," he said, his voice as close to frantic as he could imagine Snape sounding. The professor took long, quick strides to the kitchen and Harry jogged to his bare room, snatching the horrid wool blanket up quickly. His mind was racing and he was quite confused. Snape had shut the front door behind him, and had been alone. He couldn't imagine what the hell was going on.

He walked briskly back to the sitting room, just in time to watch Snape remove a Disillusionment Charm on the unconscious body of Draco Malfoy.


	3. Fire and Ice

**A/N: Thank you to **ibelieveinnothing and anon **for the reviews! They are always read and greatly appreciated.**

**Chapter Three: Fire and Ice**

Harry stood in the damp, dim sitting room, his body frozen and mouth slightly parted in shock. He was unable to figure out what it was that was paralyzing him, the fact that Snape had actually found the Slytherin or that he was pretty much intact when he brought him back?

_Except for his mind, I guess_, he thought, his mind reeling with the consequences.

"Potter!" Snape snapped, startling Harry out of his trance. "I need space to work, but you need to be within range to hear me should I call to you," he said begrudgingly, not very fond of the idea of the younger boy needing to help him. Harry turned to walk back to his room, when the professor said, "Wait."

Harry stopped where he was, turning around to meet the dark gaze of his most hated teacher. "Sir?" he asked uncertainly.

"Hand me your necklace," he said softly, his gaze drifting to the silver chain around Harry's neck.

A course of shock again ran through the Gryffindor, before he blurted out, "No! I need this to return to Hogwarts!" The glare on Snape's face immediately made him regret his words, but he remained still, his courage wavering.

"Potter," he said, voice barely above a whisper that hit Harry like a shard of ice. "I would rather not take it from you forcefully."

Harry lifted his chin defiantly and grabbed the necklace before saying, "_Corpus_-"

"_Silencio_." Harry's mouth stayed open, making no sounds, and he started running towards Snape in pure rage, fully prepared to attack him if necessary. Snape sighed. "Never able to obey a simple order, Potter. _Petrificus totalus_."

Harry's body froze, and he fell sideways to the ground, almost hitting his skull on the armchair. Snape stood and reached down to the boy's neck, lifting the chain over messy black hair and slipping it into the pocket of his robes. Harry's body was stone still, but his thoughts raced around his mind like a wild horse.

_No, you slimy bastard! I always knew you were never truly loyal to the Order!_

Snape went about as if nothing had happened, retrieving the wool blanket from the floor and laying it over Malfoy, whom he had levitated to the dilapidated sofa. He took three phials out of his robes and poured each into the blonde's mouth, having to massage his throat to get him to swallow. Harry could not move his eyes farther, or he would have taken a better look.

"I have not given him the potion that will cause him to regain consciousness. I will only do so after you and I have come to an understanding on some things," he said, moving into Harry's range of vision. Snape's face was about as neutral as it could be around the Gryffindor, which surprised the younger boy. He figured the professor would be spitting poison at him.

"The first is the most important, and it will cost you your life should you decide not to listen," he said mildly. "Dumbledore is not to know that I have found Draco. When - and if - I allow you to return to Hogwarts, you will not even slightly allude to the fact that the boy is in my care. There is no need for you to know the reasoning behind this; the only thing you need to know is that you will cease to breathe if you defy me." He paused, as if to let the information sink deeply into Harry's mind before he continued.

"Secondly, you cannot respond to Draco as if you know him. He has no memories of anyone, even myself. He is not aware of his name, whom he is, or the state of the world he is in. I will reintroduce him to that in time, and it is _not _your duty. You will respond to him only through my lead and guidance. I will not hesitate to put you in another body bind should you do otherwise.

Lastly, as to not arouse suspicion, we will go to the cave and retrieve the artifact that you need. You will be able to return to Hogwarts, Potter, only when I am sure you will adhere to these rules. Until then, Dumbledore will only know that we have been unsuccessful in obtaining the artifact, and that you insist on staying here until you have it in your possession." Snape grabbed Harry's hand, prying his wand out of it and placing it in his own robe pocket. "I will keep this until you leave. You have no need of it before then."

The curses Harry had been shouting at Snape in his thoughts increased in intensity tenfold, and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the energy had set Snape's robes on fire. He couldn't ever remember hating anyone other than Voldemort this much.

"I am going to release the bind now. You will return to your room. I will bring you dinner after I am done tending to him." He gave Harry one final warning glare. "Remember what I have said carefully, Potter. _Finite incantatem_."

Harry's limbs unfroze, and he clambered to his feet as fast as he could. He made it to the bare room, chest heaving with panic and rage, and slammed the door behind him. There were no words he could speak that would express the anger he felt right now, and if he had had any potential to use wandless magic, he was sure half of the block would be destroyed by now.

_Wait, Snape. Just _wait, he seethed._ You may have taken my means of escape and my wand, but you underestimate my ability to plan. You have given me a gift without knowing it - ample time alone to plot against you._

* * *

><p>Harry had refused to say a word to Snape the rest of the night, and he had declined the meager looking dinner the professor had tried to offer him. His sleep was fitful, and when he awoke in the morning, the house was completely silent. He grabbed his glasses and padded his way out into the sitting room, quietly observing the still unconscious boy on the sofa. Snape was nowhere in sight, so Harry decided he would have a seat in the armchair to think about everything that had happened.<p>

_I wonder what I would say if he woke up right now?_ He briefly thought about telling Malfoy everything that happened, just as revenge to Snape. He reconsidered, though, when he realized what implications it would have on the younger Slytherin. He would likely turn into the same git he had been for the last six years, and Harry was looking forward to a time when Malfoy wasn't constantly hurling insults at him. He figured it would be quite peaceful.

Just then, Snape entered the room, his eyes blaming and reproachful. "What have you done since I was away?"

Harry just gave him a neutral stare. "Nothing, sir. I just woke up a few minutes ago." Inside he was raging at the man, but he wanted to refuse Snape the victory of seeing him flustered.

Snape sneered at him and knelt beside the sofa. "Potter, it is time for me to bring him to consciousness. He will most likely be aggressive, and if you choose to stay in this room, you will need to prepare yourself for it. The minute I even suspect that you are not adhering to the rules I have set, I will paralyze you and deal with you accordingly. I suggest you just stay quiet." His voice was deadly cold. If Harry had been slightly less curious, he would have already fled to his room. But he wanted to see what happened when Malfoy woke up, to see visible evidence that the boy he had quarreled with for six years no longer existed.

"_Enneverate_," Snape whispered. There was no movement in the boy for at least five seconds, before he slowly opened his gray eyes and realized he was no longer alone. He shot up from the couch as if it was on fire, and the look in his eyes could only be described as that of a gazelle that was being cornered by two lions.

"Who-who are you?" he said, his voice shaken. His eyes darted back and forth between Harry and Snape, and he had pushed himself as far back against the sofa as he could.

To Harry's surprise, Snape lifted both hands in the air as a symbol of surrender. His voice had softened almost beyond recognition as he said, "I am a friend. I have no intent to harm you."

This didn't seem to convince Malfoy, and his chest rose and fell in quick, jagged breaths. His eyes snapped to Harry. "Then who is he?"

Harry was taken aback by the look in the Slytherin's eyes. He had never seen him look at him with no malice, no hatred, no recognition. It made his stomach twist with unease.

"I won't harm you, either," he said slowly, in the voice he might use to coax an injured animal to him. "We're here to help."

Malfoy's limbs relaxed minutely, and Snape was glaring daggers into the side of his head. He knew that the professor wanted him to stay quiet, but he was sure that if what he said had made Snape truly angry, he wouldn't still be conscious, or even alive.

"How-how am I to trust you? I don't know who you are, or where I am, or even my name!" His voice broke as it rose with frustration, and Harry almost felt a stab of pity for the boy. He couldn't imagine losing all of his memories.

"It will all be explained in time, I promise you," Snape said in that soft, unnatural voice. "You may call me Severus, and this," he spat in the general direction of Harry, "is Harry. Your name is Draco, and you have fallen victim to a memory curse."

"A curse?" Malfoy asked.

"Yes," the professor said, more patience in his voice than Harry had heard in the last six years combined. "A dark, magical curse."

Malfoy furrowed his brows, and his hands relaxed a bit as he folded them in his lap. "So does that mean that I- that I have magic?"

Snape leaned forward, which made the younger Slytherin jump almost unnoticeably. "Do you feel as if you have magic, Draco?"

Malfoy shook his head and turned his gaze to Harry, who was watching the conversation with intense interest. "I'm not sure, I don't know what it should feel like. Do you have magic too?"

"Erm," Harry said, unable to wrap his mind around the polite manner in which Malfoy was speaking. "Yes, I have magic."

"Oh," was all he replied. He looked unsure of what to say, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sure you have many questions, but it has also been awhile since you have properly eaten. I will bring you some lunch." He stood to leave, but not before giving Harry a stony glare that told him there would be pain if he slipped up while he was gone.

Harry tapped his foot anxiously, and Malfoy continued to stare at the floor. "So, erm, M- Draco," he finally said, unable to stand the silence. "Do you not remember anything at all?"

The blonde shook his head, small strands of hair covering his eyes. "No. I know how to communicate, I guess, and I know what things are when I see them.. But I don't know _why _I know, or how. And I don't know who I am.. I just know that I don't feel safe," he ended quietly, crossing his arms to his chest.

Harry frowned, feeling genuinely sorry for him. "Well, you're safe here. Snape- er, Severus- uh, he cares for you a lot," he said weakly, feeling a wrongness in his description of Snape.

Malfoy looked at him with defeated gray eyes. "Maybe. But why is it that he doesn't like you?"

Harry was briefly surprised that Malfoy had noticed, but he knew it would be hard for Snape to contain his hatred of Harry, even around his obliviated godson.

"Well, we have never really gotten along, I guess. We're too different." He shrugged his shoulders, not really knowing what else to say.

"Oh," Malfoy said again, and took a long pause. "You don't seem all that bad," he admitted, no inflection in his voice.

Harry was entirely sure that someone was pranking him now. If it weren't for Snape being in the picture, he would have been tearing out the walls for hidden video cameras.

"Uh, thanks," he said, shifting his legs uncomfortably. Snape chose that moment to stride back into the sitting room, in his hands a rather large tray of food. He placed a small pillow on the floor and conjured it into a dining table. Malfoy let out a small gasp.

"So you really do have magic, then," he said, wonder creeping into his voice. Snape set the tray down in front of the blonde, and nodded.

"As do you. When I am able to find you a suitable wand, I will instruct you on how to use it," he said.

Malfoy gave Snape an almost optimistic look, the first Harry had seen on his face since the professor had found him. He picked up his fork, looking more and more relaxed now that he was mostly sure Harry and Snape weren't going to harm him.

Harry sat in the armchair in silence, watching Malfoy eat out of the corner of his eye.

_What is he going to do when he realizes that we hate each other? _The thought displeased him more than he thought it would. It was nice, he thought, not having to argue with Malfoy. He had to remind himself that this wasn't going to last forever, and he shouldn't get used to this amicability.

"Harry," the younger boy said, giving him a questioning glance. "Aren't you eating, too? There's another plate here," he added, looking hopeful.

Harry grimaced slightly. It would be very hard to go back to the way things were. "Oh, I didn't realize there was more there," he said, not wanting to disappoint Malfoy for some reason. He looked fairly pitiful at the moment, and as close to afraid as Harry had seen him since the incident in third year with Buckbeak. He grabbed the plate of food and sat back in the armchair. He had only taken his fourth bite when Snape interrupted his eating.

"You will need to finish that as soon as possible," he said, trying to contain his impatience. "There is only a brief window of time that we will be able to visit the cave without risk of being caught in a storm. Draco," he added, "Harry and I have some business to attend to. You may have free roam of the house while we are gone." Harry scowled furiously at Snape, but the older man pretended not to notice. "There are wards - barriers - which will keep you from leaving the house, or anyone getting in."

Draco looked slightly alarmed by that, but Snape raised his hand and reassured him. "They are not to hold you captive, Draco. They are only for your protection," the older man said softly.

Malfoy eyed him a bit warily, but nodded. "What if I'm in some sort of trouble?"

Snape pulled out a dark green metal snake from his pocket. "This will allow you to communicate with me. You only need to whisper my name and you will reach me immediately."

Malfoy took it solemnly, holding it as if it would drop and shatter at any moment. "Okay. I will remember," he said.

Harry gave him a feeble wave, not really knowing what else to do. "Erm, I guess I'll see you later, M- Draco," he finished lamely, still very uncomfortable and unsure of the situation.

Malfoy gave him a small wave back, and Harry thought he smiled at him briefly. "Don't be too long. I'm not sure that I will like being left alone."

Harry just nodded, still extremely confounded by Malfoy's mannerisms. It might as well have been a whole new person, Harry thought, and he supposed that it was. The Malfoy he knew was as good as dead, and the person sitting before him had a chance to make vastly different choices than he had before. It gave Harry a shimmer of hope, that maybe he would turn to the Light side, and help them fight the war. He hoped Snape was as true to the Order as he said he was.

Snape snapped his fingers and started Harry out of his thoughts. "Potter, when I said a brief window of time, I assure you I did not mean that you could wait all day," he snapped.

Harry huffed, his plan for revenge on Snape blooming in his thoughts again. "Yes, sir," he said through clenched teeth, hoping that whatever they found in the cave would take a large bite out of the professor. He entertained himself with thoughts of a giant slug trying to swallow Snape the entire way there.

* * *

><p>Harry had apparated alongside Snape to a rocky coast, his face becoming almost immediately frozen by the howling December wind. The professor walked swiftly to a dilapidated wooden boat rolling precariously in the waves next to the coast, and Harry gathered his courage. He was sure that the boat wouldn't carry them ten feet, let alone the half mile it would need to travel to reach the cave.<p>

"Professor," he said, his eyes squinting against the chilling sea spray. "Why couldn't we have just apparated to the cave?"

Snape gave him a look of extreme irritation. "Yes, Potter, because I would _much _rather expose myself to these elements than apparate to the cave were it possible."

Harry clambered into the boat after Snape, grumbling to himself along the way. Snape directed a spell at the back of the boat, and they were propelled towards the cave much faster than Harry was comfortable with. His hands gripped the sides of the boat until his knuckles turned white, his teeth chattering and his exposed skin going numb with the cold air. They reached the other coast within a minute, and Snape gracefully stepped out of the boat onto the rocks, creating a highly contrasting image compared to Harry, who had stumbled out of the boat and promptly hit his shin on the corner of a large, pointed stone.

Snape looked at him in distaste as the Gryffindor swore and almost lost his balance again. He let Harry's own embarrassment settle for any remarks he was going to make, and climbed the few feet to the entrance of the cave in silence. Harry was left at the bottom of the coast, seething with unparalleled anger. If he didn't need Snape to guide him in the cave, he would have thrown the older man off into the icy water with glee.

They entered the cave and Harry was taken aback by the sickly green light permeating everything around him. Snape seemed nonplussed, but Harry could see the slightest of trembles in the professor's hand as he casted a _lumos_.

"You will stay no more than five feet behind me at all times," Snape said quietly, surveying everything around them. When they reached a door that blocked any passage further into the cave, the professor held out a hand to stop Harry.

"Sir, hasn't Professor Dumbledore explained this place to you?" he asked, the shake in his voice betraying his attempt to hide nervousness he felt.

"No. The Headmaster is not aware of what this cave holds, only that the artifact we seek is inside it somewhere," Snape said, the malice draining from his voice. He held his wand up to the stone to examine it, and after a few seconds, pulled a small knife out of his pocket and slit open the palm of his hand. Harry watched uneasily, nausea begging to creep into his stomach. Snape smeared the blood into the stone, and the door shifted open to reveal a dark expanse of cave, lit dimly with the same sickly green light that filled the entrance way.

"Again, stay behind me, Potter." Snape's _lumos _did little to light their passage into the cavern, and Harry struggled to make anything out beyond the professor. They walked in silence, and Harry's breath came faster with every step. There was something in the air that just felt _wrong_, and he felt like he was breathing in some sort of poison. He slowed to a stop as he noticed what was ahead of them - a massive, seemingly black lake.

Snape stopped to survey the lake, his eyes snapping from right to left until he settled on a point where the water had rippled slightly. He kneeled down next to the black expanse of water, and placed his wand next to him so he could grip the empty air in front of him.

Harry stood, momentarily confused until a chain appeared in Snape's hands, and the professor seemed to slump over with its weight. He felt his limbs freeze as a small boat rose from the depths of the lake, enveloped in the same green color that made his stomach churn. By the time it had reached the shore, Snape's forehead glistened with sweat, and Harry could hear him take in sharp, ragged breaths.

"Sir?" he asked quietly, slowly walking the distance between himself and the professor. He refused to be concerned with Snape's welfare, but he _was _the only way out of this place, and it terrified Harry to imagine being left here alone.

"Just follow me," he snapped in a hoarse voice as he retrieved his wand, and climbed shakily into the boat. Harry swallowed and stepped in after Snape, who had turned to look at him with hard, dark eyes. "Whatever you do, Potter, do not disturb the water."

That was the last thing on his mind, he thought, but he simply nodded, his skin prickling uncomfortably as the black waves rippled against the boat. It propelled them forward to a small plot of land in the middle of the lake, and Harry was careful not to move a muscle, lest he disturbed whatever Snape was so worried about in the lake.

A bead of sweat rolled down Snape's forehead as they exited the boat onto a stone floor that held some sort of basin in the middle of it. As the professor drew closer to the basin, Harry could see his face pale considerably in the dim light of his wand.

He stood in silence for a few moments, a shaking hand lifting to his brow to brush the damp hair away. He finally turned to Harry, and the glint of fear he saw in the professor's eyes was enough to make his stomach drop as if he'd been punched.

"Potter, you must listen to me carefully. This liquid must be consumed, and I am only slightly aware of the effects it will cause. When it is gone, you will find a small locket at the bottom. Take it, and guard it with your life. You _must _force me to drink the liquid." He stopped to breathe in sharply, his chest shaking slightly as he exhaled. "Should I die or become incapacitated, you must leave me and get out of this place as soon as possible."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He hated Snape, yes, but did he really hate him enough to leave him to die in this place?

"_Potter_," the older man snapped, his voice hoarse and urgent. "Tell me you understand."

"Sir-"

"No!" Snape roared. "_Tell me you understand_," he said firmly, his voice echoing against the stone walls.

Harry nodded, his heart beating hard against his ribcage. "Yes, sir, I understand."

"Good," Snape bit out harshly, grabbing what looked like a cup from the basin. "There is one more thing, Potter. If you do need to leave me here, retrieve the metal serpent from my pocket. Go back to the coast we apparated to, and speak the name Spinner's End. You will be transported back to my home. Do not, Potter," he said in a voice as hard as stone, "tell the Headmaster about Draco. If you value his life even slightly, you will find the blank piece of parchment that rests next to a burgundy book in the shelf directly next to the armchair. Write the phrase, _along the stone you will find a hollow key_. A message will be sent, and someone trusted will come to retrieve Draco."

Harry stared at Snape for a long moment, something akin to pity filling his chest.

"You have no reason to grant me this request," the professor said softly. "But see it as the last request of a dying man, and one that will save another's life."

Harry closed his eyes, forcing back a surge of emotions. He wasn't ready to be responsible for another life. "Yes, Professor," he finally said, steeling his voice not to shake. "I promise," he said, and even with the hatred he held for the other man, he meant it. He would not break his word.

Snape nodded gravely, filled the cup to the brim, and lifted the liquid to his mouth. "I hope that someday, Potter," he said, the cup poised less than an inch from his mouth, "that you will understand my actions, and not view them as a simple childish grudge."

Harry swallowed the bile that began to rise from his throat, and forced himself not to smack the cup right out of the professor's hands. He closed his eyes as Snape took a long drink from the cup, unable to witness what would happen to the older man. His eyes snapped back open as a low groan came from Snape, and the man began to sink to the floor. Harry knelt next to him, his hands trembling with fear.

Snape pushed him weakly away and filled the cup up again, almost dropping it as he brought it to his mouth. Halfway through drinking it, he let out a guttural cry, and Harry felt like he'd been slapped across the face by the noise.

Not forgetting the Snape's words, he placed his hands on the professor's and guided them back to his lips. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, his voice shaking with a mixture of sympathy and guilt. There was terror in Snape's dark eyes, and he stared unseeing into the expanse of the cave. Snape began to drink again, finishing the cup only with Harry's guidance.

The Gryffindor filled the cup one last time, and a golden locket appeared at the bottom of the basin. Harry tried to grab it, but it was useless. It seemed to be embedded in the very stone. Snape had slumped completely against the basin, his hands twitching and his chest barely rising. Harry tried to bring the cup to his lips, but the older man pushed him away again, seeming to become briefly aware of his surroundings.

"No," he pleaded, his voice laced in pain. Harry was stabbed with guilt as he grabbed Snape's wrist to prevent him from pushing him away again. He had bitten his lip until it had started to bleed, the coppery taste of blood thick in his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said in a strangled voice, forcing the cup to his lips again. "You have to," he said weakly, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. Snape's mouth fell slack and Harry poured the liquid in, hating himself more with every second. Snape began to weakly protest again, and Harry ripped his eyes away, unable to watch the man deteriorate in front of him. In what felt like hours, Snape finally drank the rest of the cup, and Harry let it fall to the ground next to them. He was able to retrieve the locket now, and he hastily shoved it into his robes.

"Come on, Professor," he said as he threw Snape's arm over his shoulder, trying to lift him to a standing position. "We have to get out of here. I can't leave you here."

Snape threw his head from side to side, trying to push Harry away again. "No," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," Harry said desperately, straining to pull Snape towards the boat. "I won't let you die here!"

Harry began to lose balance as all of Snape's weight fell against him, barely managing to right himself before they both fell into the water. Harry's heart was slamming against his chest, and his breath came in small hitches. Right as he was gathering his strength to lift Snape into the boat, something grasped the back of his robes, and he let out a startled cry.

A slimy, decomposing hand was gripping his robes, and Harry kicked it as hard as he could, only deterring it for a moment. The lake suddenly seemed alive with movement, and figures were crawling their way to the edge of the rock. Harry scrambled back towards the basin, trying to drag Snape with him.

Snape shoved him away towards the boat, much harder than he managed to before. "Go!" he yelled, his voice barely shaking. "Get in the boat!"

There was a flicker of sanity in Snape's eyes, and Harry shook his head wildly. "I can't go without you!"

Snape growled and shoved him into the boat, standing up with trembling legs. The creatures were advancing on them quickly, and Harry figured they had less than ten seconds before those things reached them.

Snape bellowed a spell Harry didn't recognize, and the air itself seemed to catch fire. The creatures, whatever they were, let out shrieks of agony and turned away from the light, buying Harry some time.

"Come on, Snape, damn you!" Harry shouted as Snape stumbled towards the boat, the fire wavering as his eyes drooped.

Snape reached the boat and collapsed to his knees, not being able to lift himself in it. Harry pulled at him feverishly, managing to drag him halfway into the boat when the fire suddenly went out, and Harry could hear the creatures advancing towards them.

With his last bit of strength, Snape shoved Harry's wand into the younger boy's hand and flung himself out of the boat before locking his gaze with Harry. His eyes were lucid and determined as he flung the small metal serpent to the Gryffindor, who snatched it reflexively from the air.

"Remember your promise." He waved his wand and the boat went flying away from the shore, and Harry let out a choked cry.

"Professor!" he screamed as the boat headed towards the other coast, the creatures pulling at the sides of the boat. They all let go as they heard Snape call out to them, and Harry watched in horror as the professor flung himself into the water. The creatures quickly left Harry, who had doubled over and was emptying out the contents of his stomach into the boat. They darted to Snape, and Harry fought unconsciousness as he watched the man he had hated for the last six years get dragged to the depths of the lake to insure that Harry lived.

The boat reached the shore, and Harry stumbled out, his vision blurred with tears. He barely managed to reach the entrance of the cave before he collapsed, a strangled cry ripping out of his throat and echoing against the endless expanse of stone, his anguish swallowed by the crash of the waves.


	4. Green and Blue

**A/N: Thank you to ****trappedinmyself1****,**** **BlackWolf2013****, ****jo****, ****blackcurrent,******MDarKspIrIt,**** for the reviews! They are always greatly appreciated.**

**Chapter Four: Green and Blue**

He laid with his face pressed the stone for what felt like hours, his head spinning and his tears seeming to freeze his skin to the rock. He finally dragged himself up and looked out into the sea, the small wooden boat he had arrived on still chained to the rocky shore. The wind had started to pick up and the skies were darkening, and he knew that he didn't have much more time to make it back across the lake. His hand went to his pocket as he walked over the rocks, and he clutched the small serpent hard enough to cause him pain. He bit the insides of his cheeks to steady himself; he needed to _focus_, not wallow on this shore and face death from exposure.

He made his way down to the shore with little grace, but enough to keep him from sliding down the hill and impaling himself on a rock. He fumbled with the chain from the boat - he couldn't keep the image of Snape retrieving the other boat out of his mind - and leapt inside it, trying to recall the spell that the professor had used to propel the boat.

After a few failed attempts, he finally remembered the correct wording, and the boat propelled itself with great speed towards the other side, the wind lashing into Harry's face like whips the entire way. His face was completely numb as he stumbed out of the boat, lifted the small snake to his lips, and whispered, "Spinner's End." An invisible hook yanked him from somewhere behind his navel, and he experienced the very uncomfortable sensation of trying to squeeze in somewhere he didn't quite fit before he landed unceremoniously in the middle of the sitting room in Snape's home.

Malfoy, who had been looking over a rather large book, had shot up out of the sofa at his entrance and looked ready to either attack Harry or run. Fortunately, he quickly realized who was on the floor, and sat back down on the sofa, looking very disgruntled.

"I wish there would have been a way to warn me about your entrance," he muttered, a faint trace of irritation in his voice. He watched as Harry fell back into the armchair, his head lolling and his chest rising and falling with jagged breaths. "Where is Severus?" he asked uncertainly.

Harry did not speak for a long time, and when he did, his voice was barely audible. "Gone. He's gone."

Malfoy's breath hitched. "Gone? As in, coming back later? Or..." He trailed off as Harry shook his head, large beads of water falling from his hair. The blonde shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the words to tell the distraught boy across the room.

"It's alright," Harry said unconvincingly, cutting off any sympathies the Slytherin could try to offer. "It's fine," he said softly, more to himself than anyone. "He had a plan to get you to safety, and I'll get started on it in a... In just a while." He stood rigidly and went to the spare room.

"I'm sorry," Malfoy called out behind him. "For your loss."

That broke Harry's resolve, and he shut the door behind him and slumped to the stone floor. Regardless of who it was, a life had been lost today, and it was in his name.

Draco paced around the sitting room, cursing every few steps. It was well into the evening now, and Harry hadn't made a single noise, much less any appearance. He was beginning to contemplate running. Where he would go, he had no idea, but it was starting to look like it would be his only option.

As he was mulling over costs and benefits of leaving for what seemed the hundredth time, Harry finally wandered out from the hallway, his face red and his green eyes hollowed. He said nothing to Draco as he retrieved a blank sheet of parchment from a shelf and went to the kitchen, glass bottles clanking against each other as he searched for something.

"Harry?" He followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of him. "What exactly is going to happen?" His voice came out harsher than he intended, and he was met with a scowl.

"I don't know," Harry said roughly, snatching an ink bottle from the shelf. "All I know is what Snape told me before.. Before he died. And that was to find a bloody piece of parchment so I could write some bloody stranger to resolve this bloody problem!" His voice had raised to the point of yelling, and Draco flinched, unprepared for the outburst.

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you. I just need to know what the hell to expect. I don't know where I am, who you are, or even who the hell I am. I need some answers."

Harry sighed, and met hard, gray eyes. "I know. I'm not sure that I have the answers either."

"Well, then I suppose we had better start finding them. What are you supposed to write on the parchment? Are you supposed to send it to someone?"

Harry shrugged and continued fishing around in the shelf. "No, Snape said that all I needed to do was write a certain message on the parchment, and it would be received. I've no idea who the message is to." He finally found a quill under some greasy looking notebooks, and motioned to the sitting room. "I guess we'll find out."

Draco sat down on the sofa, his body tense with anticipation as Harry dipped the quill and began to write. He couldn't help but lean over to get a better look, but before he could finish reading the words, they had seeped into the parchment and disappeared. He stared at the paper, horrified, and asked, "Was that supposed to happen?"

Harry stifled a chuckle at the look on the blonde's face. "I'd imagine so. It is magic, after all." Draco glared at him.

"How am I supposed to know?" he grumbled, turning his glare back to the parchment on Harry's lap. "When will we know if they got it?"

Harry shook his head. "No clue. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

They waited in silence for a few minutes, Draco tapping his foot loudly against the floor.

"Anything yet?" the blonde asked, leaning over again to get a better look.

"Nothing yet."

They waited another five minutes, Draco's tapping now accompanied by his fingers drumming against the side of the chair.

"Anything-"

"_No_, M- Draco. Don't you think I would have said something?" he snapped, and the other boy scowled.

Two minutes later, and Draco had slammed his foot down a final time, huffing loudly. "They're not going to answer," he said, his voice bordering a whine.

"_Yes,_ they will. Why don't you try to take your mind off of it?" His patience was wavering, and he didn't know how much more foot tapping and finger drumming he could handle.

"Take my.. Take my mind off it?" Draco said, his voice raising an octave. "I- You-" He was speechless with disbelief, and ended up just violently shaking his head.

Harry raised a hand up, regretting his words immediately. "Sorry. We're both anxious, yeah? Why don't you ask me some questions, and I'll answer them if I can."

Draco glared, but conceded. "Fine. Who are you?"

Harry was caught off guard. "Erm, I'm Harry Potter. I'm the same age as you. 16," he added quickly, not sure if Draco knew his age. "I don't really know what else to say."

Draco huffed. "That's hardly an answer," he scoffed.

"I'm not good at this," Harry mumbled, but Draco just continued to wait for an answer. "Fine. I defeated a Dark Lord when I was a baby. Better?"

Draco shrugged. "It probably would be if I knew what that meant."

"You're insufferable," Harry said, exasperated. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Draco leaned back on the sofa, his foot tapping again. "I guess I'm not sure." He said nothing more, and Harry was left staring at the blank sheet of parchment again.

"I like blue," he said out of nowhere a few minutes later, startling Draco out of his thoughts.

"Blue's nice, I suppose," the blonde said slowly, unsure of how to reply. Harry laughed softly.

"Not a lot of people know that. They all expect red to be my favorite," he admitted. "But blue is nice. Calming."

Draco nodded tentatively, giving Harry a concerned look. He probably thought the Gryffindor had hit his head and had gone batty.

"Well, you wanted to know about me, and there's not much I can tell you without having to explain a million other things."

Draco was quiet for a moment. "I think I like green," he said, and Harry laughed, which made Draco scowl. "What's so bad about green?"

"Nothing," Harry said, humor threading his voice. "Another one of those things it would take time for me to explain."

"I don't see us going anywhere anytime soon," Draco grumbled, crossing his arms against his chest. "Are you sure that parchment works?"

"Honestly?" he said, and his tone had become serious. "No, I'm not sure. But it's the only thing we have right now, so I've got to have some faith in it."

Draco looked less than pleased, and glared at a spot somewhere on the wall. "Why did this happen?" He asked roughly. "What did I do to warrant this?"

Harry frowned. "I- I'm not sure if I should be the one to answer that."

"Oh?" Draco stared at him, his face blotching with color. "Well if not you, than whom, pray tell?"

Harry grimaced under the glare. "I don't know. It's not really fair for me to keep that from you," he said quietly, his mind struggling against Snape's orders.

"No," Draco said flatly. "It isn't."

Harry let out a sigh, hoping he wasn't about to royally fuck things up. But Malfoy was right, it _wasn't _fair, and he would want to know if he were in that position.

"Well, you know the Dark Lord I've mentioned before." Draco nodded, and he continued. "Well, uh, your family was involved with him. On his side." He waited for any reaction from the blonde, but when there was none, he said softly, "You betrayed him. I'm not sure how, Snape never told me."

Draco sat stone still, his face betraying no emotion. "I thought you said you had defeated this Dark Lord."

"Well, yes. And no. Everyone thought he had died, but he reemerged six years ago. Since then, he's been gathering strength and regaining his old followers from before."

"In other words, my family," he said, his voice flat again. Harry flinched, not happy to be the one to inform him.

"Yes. Mostly your father. I never really knew your mother." Harry sat quietly, watching as Draco's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. "I'm sorry," he added when the blonde said nothing, and he meant it.

"Well, it isn't your fault. It's there's."

Harry was taken aback to hear the other boy sound so detached, but Harry supposed it was easier when you didn't have any memory of a family. He couldn't think of anything else to say, and they sat in silence for a long while. Draco stared off into space, obviously lost in thought, and Harry sat anxiously with the parchment, willing something, anything, to happen.

When nothing did after quite awhile, Harry stood up, his limbs stiff from sitting so long. "Draco? I think that maybe we should just get some rest. It's late, and it's no use just sitting here waiting."

The blonde nodded absently, not bothering to look at Harry. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry laid the parchment on the sofa next to Draco. "Here. You should keep this."

Draco nodded again, still lost in his thoughts. "Okay. Goodnight," he said softly, his eyes still void and staring off at the wall.

"Night." Harry felt uncomfortable leaving the blonde in that state, but weariness won out, and he flopped down on the hard cot. Even though he was exhausted, it took him hours to finally fall asleep, and when he did, his dreams were plagued with vile black waters and doors that wouldn't open.

* * *

><p>"Harry?" A voice was drifting through his sleep addled brain, but he waved his hands around, trying to convince the owner of the voice to go away. "Harry?" the voice asked, a little louder this time.<p>

"Go away," he mumbled, pulling the scratchy wool over his head. The harsh feeling startled him awake, and where he was and who he was with hit him like a slap in the face. He was hoping he would wake up, and all this would be a horrible, horrible dream.

"I didn't want to wake you, but it's probably close to noon judging by the light coming through the bottom of the door," Draco said, leaning against the wall, blond hair falling in front of his face. Harry sat up, and he squinted at the blurry outline of the Slytherin.

"No, I'm glad you did. I should have been up much earlier," he said, maneuvering around the small table for his glasses. "Has anything appeared on the parchment?"

His vision sharpened after putting the glasses on, and he saw Draco shake his head curtly, his lips forming a thin line. With Snape gone, Harry felt utterly alone and entirely responsible for the other boy's well being. The realization set like bile in his stomach.

"We'll figure something out, Draco. Snape would have never been unprepared, especially when it comes to you. Surprisingly, he actually seemed to care for you. A lot." A lump formed in his throat, and he got out of bed and walked past Draco, unwilling to let his sorrow continue any further. He would grieve when he could go back to Hogwarts and be out of this mess.

The blond padded silently behind him, not bothering to speak while Harry searched the kitchen for something to eat. He stood silently in the doorframe, doing nothing besides watching Harry with curious eyes.

"You're staring at me," Harry said, internally chastising himself for sounding so stupid.

"A very correct observation, Harry." The Gryffindor flushed, which seemed to amuse Draco highly. "I don't mean to be rude. I owe you a great deal. I just can't shake the feeling that I know you." He shook his head, and his gaze fell. "I suppose that's because I did, at one time."

Harry swallowed thickly and said simply, "We went to school together." It would be far too dangerous to start connecting this boy with the Malfoy he knew. He was afraid that if he did, he would floo right back to Hogwarts to leave him here to fend for himself.

Draco seemed to notice Harry's discomfort and left to go sit on the sofa again, leaving Harry to his thoughts. He mulled around in the kitchen for quite awhile, wasting time and trying to gather his thoughts. Surely Snape's plan had to work, because if it didn't... Well, he wasn't ready to be a caretaker, not with Voldemort rising to power so quickly. He would have firecalled Dumbledore in a heartbeat, but something about Snape's desperate pleas to stop him left him feeling unsettled and wary to speak with the Headmaster. He would honor the professor's wish - as long as he possibly could.

He returned to the sitting room carrying a plate of haphazardly put together sandwiches putting it down on a table between the armchair and sofa.

"I thought you might be hungry."

Draco nodded and gave him a slight smile. Harry was fairly sure that it was the first time he had seen a genuine smile from the Slytherin. It certainly was better than a smirk.

They ate in silence, with Harry reading the countless numbers of book titles in the shelves and Draco staring continuously into the blank piece of parchment resting next to him.

"I'd like to know more about the school that we go to," Draco said suddenly. " What did you say the name of it was?"

"Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Harry said through a mouthful of sandwich.

"There's no need to mock my questions," Draco said hotly. Harry laughed, which irritated the blond even more.

"Calm down. That's the real name, I promise you."

Draco's glare softened a small bit, but he still looked unconvinced. "Hm. I should hope that you're telling me the truth," he said primly, and brushed a few crumbs from his robes. Harry shook his head at the sight. Even without his memories, the git _still_ acted like the haughty pureblood that he was.

"If you'd like, I'll swear to that," Harry deadpanned, looking Draco directly in the eyes. "What happened to you wasn't right. I'm not about to string you along and feed you false memories. That's... I'm not that type of person."

Draco looked away and said quietly, "I know. It doesn't seem like you are."

Harry turned his gaze back to the books, unable to find anything else to say. The silence was awkward, and he tried his best to preoccupy himself in any way he could. He still couldn't believe the person sitting across from him sharing lunch was _Malfoy_.

Draco had finished his sandwich and was fiddling with a loose piece of thread on the sofa. "Hogwarts, then. What's it like?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, it's massive, for one thing. It's a castle."

The blond's eyes widened slightly. "Really? I imagine it looks fantastic."

"It does. There's all kinds of things there. Ghosts, portraits of people that can talk and move around. Moving staircases. Rooms that disappear." Harry smiled, remembering the first time he had seen Hogwarts. " Oh, and the Great Hall is brilliant. The ceiling is charmed to reflect the sky, and candles suspend themselves over the house tables."

Draco was staring off, trying to visualize the school. "Ghosts? That sounds terrifying."

Harry laughed, and the sound rang throughout the small space of the room. "Yes, I suppose that it would be. Nearly Headless Nick is a nice bloke. The Bloody Baron is horrifying. And Peeves... Well, Peeves does anything in his power to make everyone's life hell."

Draco's eyes widened again, this time in something akin to horror. "You mean he hurts people? Can ghosts do that?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No, he's just mischievous, and enjoys playing pranks. I've never seen him get violent. The Bloody Baron is always there to keep him in check. He's the only one Peeves will listen to."

Draco shuddered involuntarily. "I'm not sure that I want to attend this school."

"Well, you love it there," Harry said, hoping Draco wouldn't feel insulted when he was reminded of his memory loss. "Everyone does, I think. I guess if I had to call anywhere my home, it would be Hogwarts."

Draco frowned. "What about your family?"

Harry's smile had faded from his face. "My parents died when I was a baby. The Dark Lord, Voldemort, killed them," he said softly.

"That's terrible. I don't know what to say to that."

Harry's frown deepened. He could almost forget that this was coming from the boy that had taunted his lack of parents, even called his mother a mudblood.

"You don't have to say anything," Harry said flatly, which made Draco shift uncomfortably.

"So then where did you live, with your parents being gone?" he asked, hoping his questions wouldn't upset the person that was responsible for his safekeeping.

"I lived with my aunt and uncle, and their son, Dudley. They were muggles. People who can't practice magic," he added swiftly, and Draco nodded. "They were horrid people." His tone was lighter, and Draco felt like whatever had upset Harry had passed, he hoped.

"What do you mean?" He scooted forward on the sofa, intently staring at Harry, curious to know about him.

"They hated me for having magic. I had no idea about any of it until my eleventh birthday, when Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, came to get me."

"Why would someone hate you for having magic?" Draco said, confused and frowning.

"My Aunt Petunia, my mother's sister, had always been jealous of my mum for having magic when she didn't. And my Uncle Vernon, well, he just saw it as me being a freak. They didn't like anything that wasn't up to their standards, I guess." He shrugged, and Draco looked perplexed.

"So why couldn't you have lived with someone magical? Wouldn't that have been an option?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I guess not. I've never really been told why, but I don't think that they would have left me there if it could have been avoided."

Draco's grey eyes were hard. "Regardless, that's a horrible thing to do to a child," he said coldly. "You would think that people would be more grateful, since you got rid of their Dark Lord and whatnot."

Harry chuckled again, leaning back against the couch. "It's not so bad, you know."

Draco's eyebrows went up. "Oh? What isn't?"

"Having you here. I mean, we, uh, we weren't that close in school. I've never had a proper conversation with you, and you're much more logical than I've given you credit for."

Draco was torn between taking that for a compliment or an insult, and settled on frowning.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Harry said quickly. "It's just, well, you're a lot different. Easy to talk to."

Draco scowled. "I'm beginning to feel quite offended, Harry."

The black haired boy just shook his head, still smiling. "Don't be. It's a compliment."


	5. A Fine Line

**A/N: Okay, I admit, I'm a bit silly. I just now took a peek at how this story looks on the site, and realized the chapters were not coming out as long as I'd like them to be. In my defense, they seem a lot longer on Word, and the time it takes to write and edit them makes them feel longer as well. I apologize; if there's one pet peeve I have, it would be short chapters. So, in lieu of this, I've combined all eleven chapters into four much longer chapters, but no content has been lost or replaced. From now on, the chapters will be considerably longer. **

**blackcurrent****: The matter of where Draco was found will be addressed in one of the upcoming chapters.**

**trappedinmyself1****: Thanks! It gets busy a lot, but I always try to keep this story in mind. And yes, there will be romance, just not for quite awhile. Hopefully the wait will be worth it.**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**

**Chapter Five: A Fine Line**

After a very uneventful day and a quaint, room temperature dinner, Harry lay on the cot in the spare room, staring at the cold brick walls. Draco had retreated into a quiet state after dinner, lost in his own reflections. Harry had wanted to give him some peace, and ended up back in the bare room, not wanting to disturb the other boy.

His right arm had started to fall asleep where he had propped it up under his head, and his glasses were perching precariously on his nose, threatening to fall any minute. It was far too early to sleep, and he didn't think he could sum up the energy to read anything. So he stared at the wall, avoided thinking too much about anything important, and wished he knew what the hell he was going to do with this situation.

As if reading his thoughts, a loud _bang _erupted from somewhere in the sitting room. Harry grabbed his wand and ran out of the room, expecting the worst. He found Draco huddled between the armchair and the shelf, the front door exploded half way off its hinges, and an older man with leathery skin and long, thick gray hair standing in the middle of the room as if he had been invited. Harry's wand shook in his hand, a curse sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, boy. Unless, of course, you don't need my help after all." He stood with his wand dangling loosely from his hand, waiting for Harry to speak.

"You're the one I sent the message to, then?" Harry said weakly, never lowering his wand.

The older man's gaze turned hard, and a pair of very deep blue eyes fixed on his, sending a chill down Harry's spine. "I would not have been able to enter were I an enemy," he said coldly. He flicked his wand in a sharp, quick motion and the door promptly slammed shut, the hinge repairing itself as it went. "I would imagine this is the boy I've been instructed to heal. Severus did not mention that he was such a coward." He turned a lazy, uninterested gaze to Draco, who stood up shakily and gave the man a weak glare.

"Who are you?" Harry kept his wand trained on the man, ready to strike the second he proved to be a threat.

"I," he said icily, reminding Harry perfectly of Snape, " am your elder. And you _will not _address me with such disrespect." He sat down on the armchair, which caused Draco to jump and move to the other side of the room.

Harry seethed in silence, and the man regarded him as he would a small insect that had distracted him from his afternoon tea.

" You would imagine that the Savior of the Wizarding World would have been raised with better manners," he murmured, his eyes daring Harry to respond. When he was satisfied that the younger boy would stay silent, he turned to Draco, who was watching him warily from the position he had taken behind Harry. "My name is Ordin. I am no friend to you, but neither am I your enemy. I owe Severus a great debt, and this repays it. If you have contacted me, then he is dead. I cannot say that it saddens me." He paused, and Harry felt a small surge of anger surface at the man's words. "As for this boy," he motioned to Draco, who had regained some composure and was breathing regularly now, "I will attempt to heal him. I must admit, I have never worked with an obliviate of this caliber. I will not guarantee that I will be successful."

Draco took in a sharp gasp, and Harry frowned. "I thought you were here to take Draco?" Harry asked, and his voice broke slightly with confusion.

Ordin let out a sound that was more bark than laugh. "You thought wrong. Severus told me that I would try to heal him. I most certainly will not be responsible for him."

"That can't be right!" Harry shouted, finally losing control of his temper. "He has nowhere to go!" Beside him, Draco's breathing had gone ragged again, and Harry could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"Again, that is not my concern, nor my responsibility," Ordin said mildly. "I was summoned here to do one thing, and one thing only. If you should refuse my services, I will gladly leave you, and consider my debt fully repaid."

Harry stood in enraged silence. How could Snape have done this to him?

"I accept."

Harry's head snapped around, staring at Draco in disbelief. "Draco... You don't know what you're saying. This is dangerous. You could damage your mind permanently!"

The blonde regarded him with a stony gaze. "You mean more so than it already is?" he whispered, his tone dry and almost angry.

"I didn't mean that," Harry said quickly. "But I strongly suggest that you think about this."

Draco shook his head, his blond hair falling in front of his eyes. "No, Harry," he said firmly. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I want my memories. I _need _to know who I am."

Harry was starting to panic. What would happen if he got them back? He would almost certainly return back to Voldemort and his parents, and god knows what he would do to Harry...

"Then it's settled. I will begin my work shortly. I should warn you, however, that the process is not a quick one." Draco nodded, and swallowed down the lump in his throat. Harry was left speechless, opening and closing his mouth in protest.

"Draco, please-"

"_No,_ Harry. This is my choice to make," Draco said roughly, and brushed past the black haired wizard into the kitchen, presumably to be alone. Harry sighed, a harsh noise that caused Ordin to turn an amused stare in his direction.

"The boy is right. You have no say in the matter," he said lightly.

Harry snarled and shut himself in the spare room, leaving the old man chuckling in the armchair.

* * *

><p>Harry's thoughts were threatening to swallow his sanity whole. Things were going to fall apart, and they were going to fall apart rapidly. Regardless of whether or not Draco got his memories back, there was nowhere for him to go, no one for Harry to trust, and no other options left for him. He couldn't possibly leave Draco to fend for himself, even if he was insufferable. Dumbledore was not an option either, if he was to adhere to his promise. Which, of course, he intended to do - for now.<p>

He wouldn't trust the old man, Ordin, as far as he could throw him, but now that Draco had insisted on getting his mind healed, Harry could do nothing without feeling as if he'd betrayed the blonde's trust. That in itself was unacceptable; after all, with Snape gone, Harry was the only one the Slytherin _could _trust, and Harry could not live with himself knowing he'd done that to a person so vulnerable.

He stood up and started pacing back and forth, the anxiety and anger becoming too much to be contained. He wanted to throw things, kick something, curse something - anything to relieve this overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

A soft knock sounded on his door, and Harry spun around angrily. "What?" he snapped, his voice coming out much harsher than he'd intended.

"May I come in?" Draco asked, his voice muffled by the wood.

Harry's anger deflated at the reserved tone in Draco's voice. "Sure," he muttered, and the door swung open. Draco stepped inside, shut the door behind him, and gave Harry an apologetic look.

"Once again, I must apologize for my rudeness. There was no reason for me to lose my temper with you." He bowed his head, waiting for Harry's response.

"It's alright," Harry said, flopping down on the hard cot. "This is a lot to take in. I thought that whoever answered the message would be, well, more help, I guess. I wasn't expecting _this, _and I've no idea what to do with you, and no idea where to go-"

"Stop," Draco said, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm not your responsibility, either. Whatever reason I ended up here, it was of my own doing, and the blame lies solely on my shoulders. Maybe once I get my memories back, I'll know what to do, and you can be free of me."

Harry shook his head roughly. "That's not fair. You did what you did because you didn't want to be on Voldemort's side anymore. I should be doing everything in my power to help you."

"It shouldn't be your concern. I got myself into this mess, apparently. I've nothing to do but get out of it myself, as well."

"But it _is _my concern, Draco. I can't leave you here, not alone, not with Death Eaters possibly coming after you. I won't do it. No one else is going to die for me," Harry said, his voice as unwavering as stone.

Draco was mildly confused by Harry's use of Death Eaters, but he chose to ignore it. "I don't understand why you're doing this for me. You said we weren't close."

Harry laughed, a sound which contained absolutely no mirth, and Draco felt an uncomfortable chill down his back. "We weren't," Harry said tonelessly. "You hated me."

This seemed to shock Draco more than anything, and he furrowed his brows. "That's impossible," he said flatly.

"No, Draco, that's how it was, and you'll know that for yourself soon enough."

"Then again, why are you doing this? Especially since I hated you," Draco said, intensly bewildered.

"I'm not sure," Harry mumbled. "I just know that I can't leave you here. Not when you need my help."

A strange look entered Draco's eyes, and Harry had to look away. "I can't understand you," he said in a whisper. "If our roles were reversed, and you hated me as much as you say I hated you, I would have left you for dead."

Harry's mouth twisted into a parody of a smile, and Draco cringed. "I know. That doesn't change my mind."

Draco shook his head, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. "I can't force you to leave me. Just know that I'm expecting you to." With that, he exited the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts again. Draco made a very good point. Why _was _he doing this?

* * *

><p>Ordin had settled himself rather quickly at Spinner's End, and was lounging in the armchair, reading a large book entitled <em>Potions of the Blood: Danger and Delight<em>. He barely looked up as Draco entered and sat down on the sofa across from him.

"Sir," Draco said tentatively, and the older man just turned a page, refusing to look up from what he was reading.

"Are you ready, then?" His tone was just this side of bored, and he let no inflection grace his voice. Draco nodded, however uncertainly, and Ordin set the book down with a sigh, wistfully hoping that he would have had more time to read it. "I recommend that you lie down. This will be less than pleasant, and I won't have someone I waste my talents on falling and cracking their skull open."

Fighting the urge to sneer, Draco laid down on the sofa, trying to relax as much as he possibly could. Ordin had moved so that he was hovering over him, and Draco could smell pine and soot rising from the man's black cloak.

"_Ego intra mentis,_" he intoned rapidly, his deep voice booming. "_Fallam animum claustra!_ _Ego vos ad flectere! Conteram! Sapiunt conteram!_"

A strong gale had blasted away from the two and was whipping around the sitting room, flinging the smaller books off the shelves. Suddenly, Draco began to scream, a guttural, gut wrenching sound that pierced right through the noise of the winds and straight into Harry's chest.

The Gryffindor sprinted from the spare room, willing himself not to panic. "Stop!" he screamed, trying to raise his voice louder than the wind and Draco. "STOP! You're hurting him!"

Ordin did not notice him, and continued chanting, though in a softer voice. The gale had softened into a breeze, and Draco's cries had turned into groans and whimpers. Harry saw streams of tears rolling down the blonde's face, and Harry froze with shock, his brain seeming to shut down.

"It will be hours before he regains consciousness. I won't be able to tell if this worked until then." He sat back down in the armchair and picked up the potions book before continuing reading as if nothing had happened. Harry looked at him incredulously, and the man just huffed. "If it would make you feel better, boy, he screamed a lot less than most."

Harry wanted to yell that _no_, it did not make him feel better, but chose to stay silent instead. Parts of Ordin's dark gray hair had fallen out of his tie and were resting over his eyes. He stared at Harry until the boy finally became uncomfortable enough to leave the room, and then sat to enjoy his book in peace.

* * *

><p>"Albus, we are approaching the end of Winter Break, and you have heard nothing from Severus nor Harry. I believe it's time that we contact them." McGonagall sat primly in the Headmaster's office, holding a cup of tea. Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk, his clear blue eyes contemplative.<p>

"That is true, Minerva, very true. However, I had not expected Severus to contact me unless Harry would be returning late or if he should fall into danger. Since neither of those have happened, I have no need to intrude."

McGonagall's lips set in a hard line, and she knew her gaze had turned stern. "Albus, you could not know that for certain."

Dumbledore chuckled and popped a small purple candy into his mouth. "Ah, but I do. Even if Severus had gotten into trouble, Harry would have contacted us."

McGonagall was nonplussed, and leaned forward towards the desk. "Even if we consider that truth, what if they are dead?" The words had her stomach knotting before she even spoke them aloud, but Dumbledore merely waved her concern away, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"There's no cause for concern, Minerva. I ensured quite a long time ago that we would be aware immediately if Harry were in mortal danger."

"And Severus?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Severus is more than capable of looking after himself. After all, he has served as a valuable spy longer than any other I have known." Dumbledore smiled again, this time brighter, and pushed a bowl of sweets towards the mildly irritated professor in front of him.

"I cannot say that I approve of your course of action, Albus, but I will not argue with your decision." She briskly stood up, ignoring his offer of candy, and nodded curtly in the older man's direction. Blue eyes met hers for a brief moment, and she would convince herself much later that she didn't detect the uncertainty in their gaze.


	6. Yield

**A/N: Thank you to ****trappedinmyself1 **** and WillowBellatrix for the reviews! They are always appreciated.**

**Chapter Six: Yield**

"I thought you said he would be awake by now," Harry said in a low voice that was more hiss than whisper. Draco was sprawled out over the sofa, one arm dangling off the side and his breathing slow and regular. The blonde had moaned and rolled around restlessly well through the night, Ordin keeping a watchful if not bored eye on him while Harry tried to get some rest in the spare room. His efforts weren't very prosperous, and he had only managed an hour or two of sleep through the disconcerting sounds coming from the sitting room.

"I said it would be many hours before he regained consciousness, boy. He's hardly been out for long enough to be of concern. I once had someone take nine days before they fully awoke from it," the older man said matter-of-factly, turned a page in his book, and didn't bother to look up to see the outraged expression Harry had given him.

"I have a hard time believing that you're as great of a mind healer as you say you are," Harry mumbled while pacing around the small room. His anxiety was creeping back up on him, and he couldn't help but think that even if Malfoy got through this in one piece, as soon as he had his memories back, the other boy would be in serious danger.

"Believe what you want, I have nothing to prove to a sixteen year old boy." He slammed the book shut and reached for another, larger book that was sitting in a pile next to him, still ignoring Harry's various stages of angry glares.

"How did you know Snape, anyway?" Harry asked, unsuccessfully trying to keep irritation from his voice.

"We were colleagues," the older man said gruffly. "Not beneath the Dark Lord, mind you," he said before Harry could utter anything accusatory. "I work independently, sometimes for people aligned with the Dark Lord, sometimes for people aligned with Dumbledore, and mostly for people that want nothing to do with this war. Snape was an excellent Potions Master, and his brews were highly valued for some of the work that I do. It's a shame he had to go and get himself killed, I was due for another shipment of Living Death next week."

The lack of compassion made Harry grit his teeth together, but Ordin just focused on his book, uncaring and oblivious to Harry's rising anger.

"Right," Harry said flatly. "Just call me when he wakes up."

Ordin waved him off and turned another page in his book. "My guess is that I won't have to, assuming the spell was successful."

Harry said nothing and shut the door to the spare room, grudgingly admitting to himself that the old bastard was probably right.

_His mother scolding him after he'd broken the vase in the formal dining room..._

_Running through the barrier at King's Cross, his mind spinning with excitement for school..._

_Potter refusing his handshake..._

_His father instructing him on how to behave around the Dark Lord's followers..._

_He and Pansy sitting in the rose gardens, laughing when a dragonfly landed on his head..._

_Meeting Voldemort for the first time, and running into his room afterwards to throw up..._

_His mother crying as his father whispered to her last summer..._

_Piercing red eyes tearing through his gaze right into his mind, and they knew exactly what he had seen... _

A scream ripped through Draco's chest before he could stop himself, and he clawed at the fabric on the sofa, positive that he was in serious danger. A tall slender man had appeared beside him to hold him down, urgently whispering something that he couldn't make out. His breathing came ragged and hard in his chest, and he finally was able to stop screaming. He struggled against the man holding him, kicking his legs as hard has he could and attempting to bite the man hovering over him.

"_Draco_," the man hissed. "I'm not here to harm you, damn it," Ordin hissed, exasperated, struggling to keep the blonde from kicking or biting him.

"How could I possibly know that?" Draco growled, and threw his head up in an attempt to slam his skull into Ordin's. The older man roughly slammed him back down into the sofa and climbed on top of him to pin him down, his deep blue eyes fierce and unyielding.

"I will not have you bruising me, boy," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Hold _still_."

Draco kicked one last time, and his body fell limp. Color washed over his face, and he glared at the man as fiercely as he could manage.

"Better," Ordin mumbled.

Harry had finally been woken up from his nap by the commotion in the sitting room, and he quickly ran out, looking over the scene with confusion.

"Malfoy?" he asked hesitantly as grey eyes locked with his, recognition and anger radiating from the gaze. Harry swallowed uncomfortably. It seemed the spell had worked, after all.

"Potter," Malfoy spat. "What a lovely surprise." He turned to look back at Ordin, who hadn't moved from his position on top of the blonde. "Would you kindly get the fuck off me?"

Ordin released Malfoy's wrists and climbed off of him, watching him warily as he smoothed out his robes. Harry felt his stomach drop further and further, realizing that the other boy had most likely regained all of his memories, and it couldn't be long before he ran off back to Voldemort. Malfoy had raised himself up to a sitting position and was alternating glares between Harry and Ordin.

"Well, the show's over, isn't it? You can both get the hell out of here now," he said, his voice growing hoarse.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Ordin said, and grabbed the stack of books sitting on the table. Shocked, Harry could do nothing more than stand there with his mouth open as the older man strode out the door without looking back. He was left staring at Malfoy, who had started shaking violently and couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Uh, Malfoy?" he asked unsurely, quickly becoming worried at the other boy's actions.

"Fuck off, Potter," he said shakily, and his neck seemed to collapse under his head's weight, and he slumped over the arm of the sofa.

"You need to be seen by someone," Harry said, and walked a little closer to get a better view of the Slytherin. Sweat glistened across his forehead, and his eyes kept fluttering open and closed.

"I said fuck off," Malfoy said breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut and staying that way. Harry muttered a curse under his breath and sat down in the armchair, unsure of what to do.

"I can't leave you here like this. You've got to get to a hospital."

"Merlin, Potter, do you ever just shut up?" Malfoy said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Get out. You don't need to be here."

Harry was beginning to get angry. "Apparently I do, since there's no one else here to look after you," he said through clenched teeth.

"I don't need anyone to bloody look after me, Potter. For fuck's sake, just leave me here. I don't want you here." His body suddenly went limp and his head lolled to the side.

"Malfoy?" When Harry received no response, he harshly shook the other boy. "Malfoy!"

The blonde didn't move, and Harry could feel himself panicking. What the hell was he supposed to do with him? He was still breathing, but with the way sweat was pouring down his face and how hard his heartbeat was pulsing in his neck, Harry was convinced that he wouldn't make it very long. Out of desperation, he went into the kitchen and rummaged through the shelves, hoping to find something that would help. He settled on a Calming Draught and ran back out into the sitting room. Malfoy was still sweating profusely, but he breathing seemed just a touch slower. Harry quickly poured the potion into Malfoy's throat, holding his lips shut and rubbing his neck as he'd seen Snape do to get him to swallow the potion. Thankfully, it seemed to take effect rather quickly and the blonde's heartbeat slowed. Sweat had stopped running down his face, and his breathing became more and more regular. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and fell back into the armchair.

"Damn it all," he muttered, pushing his fringe back from his eyes. He had no options left. If he couldn't figure out something quickly, he was going to have to go to Dumbledore. The thought of betraying his word left him cringing, but he could honestly say that he had no other choice. He would give Malfoy until the morning to wake up, and if things hadn't changed by then, he supposed that he would have to drag the Slytherin back to Hogwarts. He certainly wasn't about to wait around in this damp place forever.

Time seemed to drag by as he waited in the armchair. He had attempted to read a few times, but words seemed to blur together on the page and he couldn't keep his attention long enough to interpret what the book was trying to say. He'd taken to staring at a knot in the wood of the shelf. If he squinted, he found that it looked alarmingly like Professor Trelawney would had she bitten into a lemon.

A noise from the sofa pulled him abruptly out of his thoughts and he couldn't help but jump slightly. Malfoy had coughed, and was currently rubbing his forehead, his eyes still clamped tightly shut.

"Malfoy?" he asked, sitting forward on the armchair to get a better look.

The blonde rolled over and opened one eye. "Why the hell are you still here?"

Harry let out an angry huff, not really knowing what he'd expected when Malfoy woke up. "I told you already. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Ever the Golden Boy, aren't we, Potter?" He tried to sound menacing, but the facade fell flat on the floor as he coughed and struggled to catch his breath. Harry felt something like pity tighten in his chest for a brief moment.

"Listen, you're here because you didn't want to be on Voldemort's side anymore. It's kind of my job to make sure the people fighting against him don't die. I'm not doing this because I want to, Malfoy. I'm doing it because I'm the only one that bloody can right now."

The blonde hacked again. "How do you know that I've chosen not to follow the Dark Lord, Potter?" he drawled.

Harry scoffed. "You wouldn't be here if you were still on their side."

Malfoy sneered and shut his eyes again, refusing to admit that Harry was right.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Harry finally said, the silence unnerving him. To his surprise, Malfoy made a sound almost like a laugh, but it quickly dissolved into more coughing.

"Of course I do, as long as I don't have any particular want to stay alive." He threw another glare at Harry for good measure, and rolled over so he wasn't facing him. "I'm going to sleep. I don't want you here when I wake up."

Harry slammed his foot down in anger. "Damn it, Malfoy! I'm trying to help you! Why can't you take a break from being a bastard for two seconds and help me figure out what the hell we're going to do with you!" His voice rang throughout the small room, but Malfoy lay on the sofa, seemingly unaffected.

"I don't want your bloody help, Potter," he said in a hard voice. "Get out."

Infuriated, Harry stormed out of the room and slammed the door to the spare room. Maybe he would just leave him here. That way, he could go back to Hogwarts and be done with all this. He tossed around the idea in his head for a few minutes, and sighed in exasperation when he realized he wouldn't be able to do that. Even if it was Malfoy, he'd never forgive himself if the stupid prat got himself killed.

He laid down on the hard cot and forced himself to calm down. He'd stay in here for awhile, and hopefully when he went back out there Malfoy would decide to stop being so stubborn. And if not, well, he could always stun him and drag him back to Hogwarts if he had to.


End file.
